Jan/10
06

I took M to riding tonight, an occurrence as rare as Hailey’s Comet, since I normally do the weekend shift to the barn.

After several hours of acute pony adoration, we headed for home in darkness and turned down the interstate where we were immediately almost sideswiped by a large white pickup.

Jesus!

The guy was all over the road, everywhere, swerving from lane to lane, missing cars by inches. It was crazy. I threw my cell phone at M and screamed at her to dial 911 and went into my best imitation of CSI: Seattle. No really. I felt like this:

I was playing an awesome soundtrack in my head. It was kind of electronic but with some guitar riffs.

I sped up and turned on my hazards and tailed him….yes. Tailed. You heard me.

I’ve seen this stuff on TV, folks. I know what I’m doing.

Anyway, I get on the phone with 911 and they patch me through to the state patrol and they are asking me things like do you have visual on the suspect and I could barely contain myself when I squeaked yes! I have visual!

Meanwhile, the truck is continuing to swerve all over the interstate but people were staying out of his way and he slowed down to about 45 and I was following the suspect (the suspect!) with my hazards on… I still have visual! She still has visual! Ma’am, do not endanger yourself, please. Officers are en route. Please just keep visual. Okay, I’m keeping visual!

Then, BAM!, a Washington State Patrol car comes flying on the interstate and then they want me to tail (tail!) the patrol car so I can be a witness (witness!) but first he has to observe the truck and see unsafe behavior so I tell M she’s getting a homework pass because at this point it’s like 7:30 and we are CRIME-FIGHTING DAMMIT and we tail (tail!) the officer for another 10 minutes until he pulls the truck over.

I’m still on 911 at this point and it’s all please remain in your car please while the officer (officer!) makes contact with the suspect (suspect!) and have your photo id handy and thank you the officer (officer!) will be with you shortly for your statement (statement!)…

INSERT SOUND OF NEEDLE SCRATCHING OFF THE RECORD HERE

Huh. Where *is* my wallet?

Not in my pocket.

Not on the seat.

(panic beginning to set in)

Not under M on the seat.

(panic in full force)

Oh my god, I have called down The Law and I don’t even have a driver’s license with me.

And so we sit there as I sweat bullets, waiting for the awful moment when the officer strides over to the car and asks for my ID.

It takes a long time, like 20 minutes. Those lights on the top of the police car become like light spears stabbing my eyeballs. They are so bright.

M gets bored and turns on the radio.

I am trying to use my cell phone internet connection to see what the fine is for driving without a license. Screw AT&T and their shitty service. I can’t even get to google with my “do you go to jail in Washington State for driving without a license?” query. I seem to remember the fine is like $500. Or maybe they arrest you. My god, will I have to share a cell with the drunk guy? That might be awkward. And where the hell IS my wallet, anyway? Now I’m starting to freak out about my debit card….some kid is on the Internet RIGHT NOW with my debit card. OMG. I’m going to jail with the drunk guy AND I’m going to have $900 worth of snowboard equipment and prepaid cell phones charged to my debit card that I can’t recover because they only allow one phone call from jail and it sure as hell isn’t going to be to the Chase debit card division. Worst. Day. Ever.

Plus, I’m famished.

After what seems like forever, we see an official figure in dark blue striding towards our car, who steps to the passenger window. I brace for impact — step out of the car and put your hands on the hood — but instead hear the words:

Thank you for your call, Ma’am. The gentleman in the truck is elderly and appears to be suffering from some dementia or something. I don’t want to keep you any longer. We have paramedics on the way.

And I cautiously say okay so I should go, then? and he nods and then it occurs to me that game programmers are super hawt but maybe we should make some kind of uniform for them, just for special occasions. Something sort of tight on the chest, with a little tablet computer hanging from the belt or something. Just a thought.

Yours, in a law and order sort of way,

Annie

PS Found my wallet at home. Whew.